


Collecting Days

by plumtrees



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 19:10:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5551892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plumtrees/pseuds/plumtrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>The silence of the crowd as they recite their vows and say <em>I do</em> is deafening, their cheers as he and Tetsurou kiss even more so, and Kenma thinks some distant version of him would have shied away and ran; but right now he’s in the arms of the only man he’s ever loved, locked in the most passionate kiss he’s ever known, and he feels like he can take on the world.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Collecting Days

**Author's Note:**

> So I finally kicked myself out of my little slump!
> 
> for anon, who requested "a kyohaba or a kuroken fic with the words "I thought this would be more romantic" being used."
> 
> a personal challenge as well, b/c I needed to learn to write more than just the same 4 characters I've been using

Tetsurou does not go down on one knee and there are no fireworks or a symphony orchestra or a star-studded sky and a moonlit balcony in the background. They are in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner on a Wednesday evening. There is not much ceremony to it: Tetsurou wipes a cloth across the table, pauses, looks over to Kenma, and asks him to marry him.

When Kenma accidentally cuts his palm on the knife he’s washing, the pain barely even registers. It is Tetsurou who yells and drags Kenma onto a nearby chair.

Tetsurou’s babbling, he thinks. He’s not sure. There’s nothing Kenma can hear other than the endless echo of Tetsurou’s proposal along with an avalanche of his own questions, and it’s like two songs with discordant beats being played simultaneously.

 _Why? Why_ me _?_ he wants to ask, but his mouth opens and closes around silence. _Is this a joke?_ his mind hisses, and his heart clenches at the thought.

He wants to cry. He thinks he already is. Something warm is spreading along the grooves of his palm, his face is growing hot and his head is starting to hurt but Tetsurou pulls him back (and of course it’s Tetsurou; always Tetsurou, pulling Kenma along to meet people, to try new things, to live life, even when he’s convinced himself he’s just fine being alone) and carefully wraps a clean cloth around Kenma’s bleeding hand.

Everything goes silent.

When Kenma opens his mouth, he says only one word.

“Okay.”

Tetsurou looks up at him, eyes wide. Kenma quickly ducks his head and finds that watching the cloth become saturated with blood is easier than watching Tetsurou’s face morph into varying levels of emotion.

“Funny.” Tetsurou mutters, the hands sandwiching his trembling like crazy. “I thought this would be more romantic.”

 

-

 

The wedding is simple, with a modest audience. Their immediate families, all of Nekoma, Fukuroudani, and Karasuno from Tetsurou’s generation as captain are present, and Shouyou and Koutarou stand beside them as their best men.

The silence of the crowd as they recite their vows and say _I do_ is deafening, their cheers as he and Tetsurou kiss even more so, and Kenma thinks some distant version of him would have shied away and ran; but right now he’s in the arms of the only man he’s ever loved, locked in the most passionate kiss he’s ever known, and he feels like he can take on the world.

 

-

 

Upon Tetsurou’s insistence, Kenma is carried across the threshold of their apartment. Kenma fears for his life, because Tetsurou is still tipsy from the champagne that Koutarou kept goading him into drinking, but by some miracle, Tetsurou manages to get them across the doorway without injury, and even remembers to close and lock the door behind him.

In the safety of their apartment Tetsurou starts up an off-key rendition of the Bridal March on his way to the bedroom, swinging Kenma in his arms like he was his firstborn instead of his spouse. Kenma tries not to smile, but the ache at the corners of his lips told him that he’d failed. Tetsurou lays him on the bed, slips off his shoes for him, and drops them carelessly on the floor.

Kenma stares at his husband (and the word still sends chills buzzing pleasantly through his body, the ring on his finger burning hot like the sweetest reminder) who stares back, hand reaching up to tuck Kenma’s hair behind his ear.

“I still haven’t given you your wedding present.” Tetsurou whispers, then suddenly hops off the bed and skips to their closet, opening it with an overdramatic flourish. Kenma’s heart stutters in his chest.

“But didn’t you already—”

“Oh, these are just extras though.” Tetsurou interrupts, voice echoing in the confines of their closet. He steps out with two boxes, carefully balancing them in his arms as he climbs back onto the bed, setting them on Kenma’s lap.

“Start with the smaller gift first.” he suggests, and Kenma does, carefully peeling back the paper, if only to savor the excited look on Tetsurou’s face.

His eyes widen in surprise, then narrow in confusion when the wrapper reveals a game he’s always wanted to play, on a console he doesn’t even have.

In a sudden moment of clarity, he scrambles for the large gift, tearing off the wrapper in one quick swipe.

He sees the box but doesn’t want to believe it, thinks it’s too good to be true. He practically claws the box open in his haste, smothering a gasp with his hands when it he sees the sleek black casing of the console he’d been saving up for.

Without preamble, he pounces on Tetsurou and kisses him hard.

They spend the entirety of their wedding night playing video games.

 

-

 

Tetsurou comes home two months later horribly drenched from the rain, despite the umbrella tucked beneath his arm. Kenma stops at the entryway when he sees _something_ squirm in the bundle held tight in Tetsurou’s arms.

All he gets in explanation is a small pout before Tetsurou unwraps the bundle to reveal two kittens, one black and one calico, slightly damp but not as bad as Tetsurou.

All that comes to Kenma in that moment is, _I’m actually surprised it took this long_.

Kenma ushers him into the bath and takes the two kittens, carefully wiping them down with a cloth he warmed up over a pot of boiling water and feeding them bits of leftover chicken. He makes a mental note to set aside time tomorrow to get them to the vet.

 

-

 

For a bunch of strays, the two are surprisingly healthy. Kenma has to schedule an appointment for vaccinations, but nevertheless, the cats are released with a clean bill of health.

“So…does this mean we get to keep them?” Tetsurou asks softly, cradling the kittens in a small basket Kenma found lying around the apartment. Kenma eyes them, and while he admits that he’s awful with animals, he can’t deny that they’re actually really cute.

(And if Kenma finds the expression on Tetsurou’s face when he looks at them absolutely endearing, then that’s a bonus he doesn’t need to know.)

“We’ll need to stop by the pet store first.” Kenma mumbles, already Googling a list of things they’ll need for the care and maintenance of two cats. Tetsurou’s eyes go wide and Kenma’s completely blindsided when he darts in to kiss his cheek.

“Love you, Kenma!” Tetsurou chirps geefully and Kenma isn’t sure why his ears are burning up at such an innocent little kiss but they _are_ and his only saving grace is that Tetsurou’s too busy fawning over the cats to notice. “What should we name them?”

Kenma blinks, still half-stunned. “You found them. You decide.”

Tetsurou grins and scratches the black one behind the ear, “You’re Ichi,” then pokes the calico’s nose, “and you’re Go.”

They meow, as if in agreement, and the calico nips at his finger. Tetsurou coos and Kenma rolls his eyes at the reference.

 

-

 

Three years of living together pre-marriage had ironed out most of their domestic grievances, and rules have already been established in the name of peaceful cohabitation. The list is up to the 20s, with things like _There is a separate hamper for colors and whites_ and _Kenma shall never attempt to work the gas oven without Tetsurou’s supervision_. There is still space for more rules, and Kenma's pretty sure he's about to add one after this episode.

Kenma should have expected this, he supposes, but despite Tetsurou’s pout and watering eyes and the chorus of meows from the box in his arms, Kenma puts his foot down.

There is no way in _hell_ they’re adopting seven more cats.

 

-

 

One day, after a particularly harrowing week of migraines and aching eyes, Kenma wakes up to find that the world takes longer than usual to come into focus. He turns at the feel of Tetsurou’s lips against his nape, but instead of the sharp features of his husband, he’s met with a blurred silhouette.

Later at the ophthalmologist’s office, Tetsurou approaches him with red cat-eye frames, and even with his awful sight, he can make out the shade of Tetsurou’s mischievous grin. He does not need to see clearly, muscle memory serving him well as he reaches out and smacks Tetsurou upside the chin.

He selects round ones with thin frames and silently sighs in relief when he puts them on and the world is thrown back into fine detail. Tetsurou slinks up beside him to look in the mirror and wolf-whistles at the reflection.

“And here I thought my thing for glasses back in high school was just a phase.”

It’s fair, Kenma thinks, because he _did_ have that crush on Shouyou back then and what else was Tetsurou left to do but try his luck elsewhere, but still, the mention of Tetsurou’s old crush causes Kenma’s hand to act on its own, and Tetsurou is left to nurse his second handprint of the day.

 

-

 

They have never been physically affectionate, not in the way Keiji and Koutarou are, or Shouyou and Tobio. Theirs is a silent, patient love, forged over the decades of knowing one another. Where others needed words, the press of lips or the press of hands, for them, a glance is enough.

And yet, sometimes, Tetsurou sidles up against him, the warmth of his skin permeating through his sleeve as their shoulders touch; his arm curls around his waist and holds tight; once or twice, he even goes as far as to reach out, fingers slithering between Kenma's hand and whatever console he's holding, thumb brushing against the edge of Kenma’s palm.

Most people, especially those who only witness him in the company of Koutarou (where he is almost always likely to be found) don’t have a clue, but this is Tetsurou too; this sweetness, these unexpected silences that hold things that remain unsaid but understood.

But still, that silence, while comforting, continues to burn a gnawing sense of uncertainty inside Kenma. Five years into their shared life and Kenma’s biggest insecurity remains the same: for Tetsurou to not know how much Kenma loves him.

He has long since learned how Tetsurou likes to be loved, knows that a night of cuddling and attention is all he needs to ward off the stress of even the worst of days. Tetsurou has expressed happiness and contentment time and time again, but Kenma wonders if any of it is actually enough.

 

-

 

Three weeks later, he wakes up early, silently shutting off the alarm so it won’t disrupt his plans. He leaves the house with Tetsurou and the cats still asleep and buys sanma from the local market, even when they’re off-season and a little more expensive. Ichi and Go yowl at him when he arrives, sniffing the plastic bag and rubbing up against Kenma’s leg. He quickly opens up a can of cat food to appease them.

He grills the sanma and serves it on a tray alongside steamed rice and cold pickled plums. The electric kettle clicks and he pours out enough for Tetsurou’s mug and slips a teabag into it.

He prepares to carry the tray, lifting it just a few scant centimeters off the counter and testing its weight in his arms, only to nearly drop it when an arm curls around his waist, pressing him up against a broad chest.

Tetsurou’s familiar scent envelopes him as he nuzzles his head in Kenma’s hair and presses a kiss right at the top of his head. “Happy anniversary.” Tetsurou whispers in a voice rough with sleep.

 _Here’s your chance,_ his mind nags, and Kenma tries to force the words out of his constricting throat. _Come on, just_ say _it—_

“Oh my, was I going to be treated to breakfast in bed?” Tetsurou purrs, his teasing laced with a warm fondness that causes the knot in Kenma’s stomach to wind tighter. “You didn’t have to though.”

“I wanted to.” Kenma answers instead, the words he really wants to say retreating far back into his mouth as his shoulders hunch slightly inward. _Coward._ the voice in his mind jeers.

“Aww, Kenma.” he feels Tetsurou’s smile against his scalp. “I love you too.”

Kenma’s breath catches, and suddenly, he is back to that night five years ago, his hand held tight and warm between hands much bigger than his, hands which have—without fail—always made him feel safe and every bit as deserving of the love he’d been receiving all these years.

“We can eat here.” Tetsurou murmurs.

Kenma clears his throat, quickly swipes a hand over his cheek to wipe away a tear. “Yeah. Okay.”

Tetsurou picks up the ring from the ramekin Kenma stored it in, strokes along the faded scar on Kenma’s palm, and slips it back on his finger.

They set the table and eat in silence, and Kenma wonders why and how it’s escaped his notice before: the content smile on Tetsurou’s face, how his entire disposition glows brighter when they lock eyes from across the table, his habit of fiddling with his ring even after five years, like he’s constantly checking if it’s there, like he still can’t believe it himself.

Kenma reaches out, palm up, and Tetsurou flattens his own hand over his. Kenma’s thumb brushes over the gold band on Tetsurou’s finger.

 _I love you_ he says, in all the little ways words can’t, and it echoes across their own little corner of heaven; a Tokyo apartment over a breakfast of grilled sanma and rice, the sun shining over golden vows and cats curled under a table.

Tetsurou’s grip tightens.

_I know._

**Author's Note:**

> will be scrambling for the next few requests so say hi to help me ~~procrastinate~~ GET MOTIVATED [plumtreeforest.tumblr.com](http://plumtreeforest.tumblr.com)


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